So depressed not being able to understand this void…
Something’s missing and hasn’t been there for so long….
‘I’m not understanding the way to decode the language of emptiness that fills up my inside and bit by bit he’s been developing the ability to dye the light into a deep darkness state of confusion and unsolicited surrender-ness’ he reflected
‘who are you?’
‘what do you want from
‘what are you trying to tell me?’
if only these messages were more authentic, logic and less demagogic ….as ….there’s no reason to reject the wonders of aliveness
Perfect is the image perceived by the spectators , fake is the one released by the naked truth, He thought
‘who do you want to see?’
‘the real me or the ‘what I could be’ me?’ he whispered
This path is the return one, there’s not one to come and one to go.
Longer shorter days giving me the chance to nourish the heart
Mundane experiences sealed as rubber stamps on my skin, intending to be part of the past, with unattained outcomes….
How to enjoy the deepness of this physicality when this indescribable ghosts don’t want to let go….
Is it my Ego mind boycotting my triumphs?…
or simply this incapacity to understand the void language
Trying to fully convince myself that the Universe is speaking to me through gnomic messages?
Maybe this is a new way of communicating I need to master to feed this thirsty whole of emptiness .
…..to be continued
When finding himself, he was losing himself
The more he saw the more he got drowned.
Reality didn’t bring the well seeked clarity that day.
Confusion didn’t bring the typical daily delusion but neither clarity nor ease that day.
Walking and walking he was trying to find a solution.
Slowly and slowly he thought, as if waiting for answers to come unexpectedly from the sun was certainly happening.
His emptiness felt so dark
no matter how bright his sparks were, as unseen by his third eye they lived in mystery.
He wanted to Dive as if the water would clean his shade
He wanted to fly, as if the air up there would erase his pain.
He wanted to run, as if speed would burn the void inside.
……but all he did was stay, in a stillness mode , where the non thinking mind was the one to answer this time.
Windows reflecting her image distorted of how she feels she is,
as memories come to her mind suddenly.
This walk was a never-ending roller-coaster
who was she without that mask?
….the best actress is not the authentic but the ticket seller
what do you do when you dont know what to do but still have to do it?
unclear is the surface of the tangible ground when mostly what you see is just part of the script.
Uncertain of directions perceiving a void when the known is far away and there’s no wall to lay on.
What if heart chooses, and mind is in disagreement?
Excuse me Sir, where is this life’s manual?
I dont want to go against the law
but … what if it makes me happy not to please anyone else?
This sadness is brought by the uncertainty of path
the rate race of dreams that walk without direction….
How can we feel fulfilled
How can we fly up high and feel alive?
How can we feel purposed even when nobody else sees that in us?
she feels alone
she feels non understood
where can she go….?
So much pain so hard to explain
down here in the rain pretending He is vain
Where should He go what should he do…no matter what happens he still thinks of you.
Somewhere in the dessert where plants tend to die, he handles a flower, pretending to fly.
Faraway lands expecting arrivals of wisdom and canvas ready to be re-designed
This emptiness feels like a summer debris refusing to be , eternal bliss
what is to die, but to be only naked in our mind, not speaking aloud our truth to survive.
If only he could leave this space of hollowness fulfilling the gap with love and with trust, believing he must fly and shine like a star in the middle of the sky somewhere up high.
In love he is destroyed In love he is delighted no roof and no ground to feel this alive
As blessed as intrigued with sorrow and bliss
believing exists this heaven in his list.
The maze has no end but trouble and pain
Why should he stay when the rain is on its way
Why should he pray, when he only has today
as tomorrow is blossoming and yesterday is dead.
Does it exist?
Does True Love exist?
So many poems and lyrics
so many phrases and quotes
so many thunders and sunshines above of it all.
Below the surface there’s reality there’s pain and there’s doubt, in a world of ever-growing bouts….
Where is this going, this pain is overflowing….
This empty space goes deep to touch base, trying to win some random race nonexistent to the eyes but clear as a vase.
Could it be platonic?
Could it be the mystical in love with love… that as a cloud it can hide whats real and loud under the eyes of the cowed that screams so aloud to be heard….?
Visiting and staying… or changing its route as simple as the seasons that without any reasons they move to horizons untouched as raw diamonds.
A knot in the throat from unspoken thoughts, painful as shots is the distortion of Love
where is the feeling?
which is its location?
where do you carry it when you pretend you dont have it….
She looks for connection instead of words and deceptions
She looks for a soulmate as if they truly exist in a world of beliefs, of seasons and cliffs, of reasons and fees.
She wants to believe
She wants to retrieve
She wants to forgive herself for this feeling as deep as the core of oceans and shores so strong and life changing as winds of renewal that shower the pain with truth and with rain.
The message is clear
refusing to hear
this inner voice fear
provoking these tears
Neglecting her space
of laughter and grace
shadowing her face from liberty.
What is it out there, so tempting to wear?
What is it in here… that she expects to tear?
The Sun is still shining, no matter whats coming
The sky is still vast as it ever lasts
You, Me, Him, Her pretending to hide reality from society
The lights wont chase us as darkness lands.
Setting wings free into the sky full of shining pearls and wonder moons fooling the ones with a type of blindness called ignorance that blocks the unquestionable , from flowing.
What about stepping on layers of experienced mistakes becoming taller to spy across the tall fence of life truth ‘s?
Is that possible?
She walks alone
Experienced mastered her in learning her power.
Illusions frustrated expectations.
And choices blocked possibilities.
She walks detached from judgement and whining , from comments and rhyming.
She walks unlatched from handles and leashes facing her wishes confidently unscratched.
The power of being in a world of believing that magic exists in this list I cant resist